100 Books Like The Burning Court

Ballgowns, swords, and secrets abound in One for All, a fresh retelling of The Three Musketeers. As the daughter of one of the original Musketeers, the main character Tania is an expert sword fighter who also struggles will the chronic illness, POTS.

There is so much action, intrigue, and mystery in this book while adding fresh and needed representation to the genre. Even though this isn’t strictly a historical event, a lot of us associate The Three Musketeers with the time of Louis XIV, and it’s fantastic to see that time period in a new light from a fresh perspective.

Once I settled in to read the life story of the scandalous 19th-century French femme fatale Marguerite (Meg) Steinheil, I didn’t get back up until I finished. What a ride! Then, I immediately went back to the beginning and read it again.

Meg became notorious in 1899 for literally being in the bed (and the clutches) of the French president when he suddenly died. But wait, there’s more! That’s not even the most incredible moment in her life story. At one point, I started yelling at the book: "Meg, what, no!"

This book has everything you want in a story: murder, sex, scandal, and an unlikely heroine’s pluck and poignancy. History that reads like a novel. What more could you want?

The chief attraction of Fred Vargas’s novels is her cast of characters, led by Chief Inspector Adamsberg, a most unconventional leader of any criminal investigation outfit. Small and disheveled, good with animals and children, dreamy and often seemingly idle, Adamsberg is not only extremely bright but has confidently surrounded himself with remarkable colleagues. Hard-drinking Adrien Danglard, a single father of five with a huge store of ready information, and Violette Retancourt, a woman of prodigious strength and courage, are among his entertaining subordinates, along with Snowball, the division’s cat that proves equally remarkable in one memorable outing. 

I grabbed this historical true crime nonfiction book in order to conduct research for one of my own projects. 

This book is about the rampant crime in 1600s Paris and, by extension, the Affair of the Poisons and Louis, The Sun King’s, solution. The king’s solution was to hire a police chief, La Reynie, to bring peace to the city streets. La Reynie ordered candles put in every window in the belief that the light would deter the criminal element, thus creating the City of Lights.

La Reynie was also the central investigator in the Affair of the Poisons and responsible for arresting the key figures in the crimes. Tucker also shows in this fascinating book how many of these criminal incidents were related to witchcraft and black magic. 

The beauty of this book is how it reads more like a novel than nonfiction history.

The bad boy falls in love with the young innocent girl, and for her sake, he fully intends to keep her at a distance. The only problem is she won’t stay away. It’s the heart deep inside of the bad boy that we are always drawn to, that need to protect her, but finding she’s too stubborn for her own good so the only way to protect her is to be with her. 

I didn’t come into contact with Remembrance of Things Past until I was in my late twenties—and was immediately turned off. I thought, what a windbag and slammed the book shut. Later, I gave it another try. Then another. I never did finish Swann's Way and the other novels in Remembrance of Things Past. And yet Proust remains not only a powerful influence on my writing, but a guide in the practice of good prose. What has stayed with me were Proust’s long gorgeous sentences. Any time my writing slackens, or my vision falters, I pick up Proust. I read those long long sentences with my lips moving. They inspire me. They make me pay attention to the most important craft element in the writer’s tool kit—the sentence.

A gruesome story of murder and desire that also happens to have the most vivid olfactory descriptions of any genre.

Suskind’s preternatural ability to summon odor from the page makes you feel as if you are there beside him, walking through the flowered hillsides of Provence, or in the back room of a perfume shop on the Pont au Change. His twisted use of classic perfume techniques is as accurate as it is chilling.

Beauty and the Beast is my favourite fairy tale, so not only do I read every retelling I can get my hands on, but I’m quite particular about how I rate them. Stalking Shadows exceeded all expectations. I loved how she changed the genders of her Beauty and Beast (or Beasts). I love when women are allowed to be beastly and monstrous. Panin also didn’t shy away from talking about tough subjects in her book, another reason I loved it so much. I especially liked how she tackled racism and Lord Sebastian’s experiences as a biracial child growing up in the village.  

The go-to book about voluntary homelessness, I always appreciate George Orwell’s amazing writing. It’s hard to put down.

The first half is about his time as a lowly kitchen assistant in the basement of a Parisian restaurant in the 1930s. The brutal divide between the rich and the destitute is better depicted here than in anything else I’ve ever read. The second half describes his time back in England and provides a heart-rending understanding of why homeless people are referred to as tramps and the ultimate emptiness of church-organized aid.

Although Orwell always had the option to opt out, his study of the lived experience of homelessness and the skill with which he captured it afterwards stand out as a colossus of the genre.

This biography is a must-read for anyone who is interested in art, history, and strong, powerful women. It was the first book I read about the great 19th-century sculptress, Camille Claudel. “As recently as twenty years ago, in France, Camille Claudel was known only to a handful of admirers. The brief moments of applause she had enjoyed during her lifetime had never led to important commissions, and the sales of her pieces remained few and far…Camille Claudel displayed many characteristics that contribute to the weaving of myths: she was beautiful, talented, witty, and fiercely independent. She was connected to some of the most visible artists and writers of the era; she even had a romance with Auguste Rodin, the greatest sculptor of the nineteenth century. But hidden among the magnificent gifts nature had bestowed upon her was the seed of an illness that eventually brought her to a mental asylum.”… show more.